Power of A Dream
by SerenBunny
Summary: Dreams are a part of us. They are also part of the Labyrinth. As each dream fades, so does the power of Jareth. Come and see just how this is happening, how we can stop it, and why the brightest light is going out - against everyones wishes.
1. The What

_One and only AN. This is a FANfiction, I do not own Labyrinth, or anything connected with it. Someone else does. Also this was created due to too many phsycology classes. Please take in mind this will be short, and is based off a nightmare I had the other day._

_Reviews and critical comments are encouraged as usual, while flames will be fed to the Bog of Eternal Stentch._

* * *

As we grow older our dreams fade, replaced with more and more nightmares as they are called, until we give up dreaming all together; unless one or two sparse images of your imagination (what is left of it) brakes through.

Your dreams and nightmares are believed to be your subconscious at work; using your entire brain while your body rests. As you sleep and get ready for the next day, storing energy and so on, your brain shifts through information that has yet to be sorted and causes an insecurities to surface as a physical and mental representation that you have for fleeing moments of waking.

Look at it this way: all of your problems in the real world can be explained away, money problems, being bullies, exam worries, stress excitement, insecurities, and new horizons and so on.

But that is the explanation for when we are older; more cynical of the world.

For as long as we were young, we believed. Believed in fairies, dragons, lagoons with mermaids, pirate ships that fly, of creatures both weird and wonderful, along with so many more things.

They could not be explained away. If you dreamed of being in a castle, your child self would explain as your fairytale self-wanting to be rescued by a prince, where as your adult self will respond with feeling locked up by worries.

This is where our story begins, where He who rules over our dreams and nightmares, changes them and uses them against us in order to stall us all, and take what he wants.

Who is he?

Jareth, King of the Goblins, ruler of the Labyrinth.

* * *

Our story begins with a small child, no more than six years old. With a happy home, with a mother, father, older sister and brother, a dog, full set of two grand parents, loving and caring aunts, uncles and cousins, going to school and living a normal life, no one would suspect anything.

For as long as there has been man, there has been imagination. For as long as their has been children, there have been stories. Stories of treasures untold, pirates, flying, mystical creatures, strange world, and fairy tales and so on.

Nevertheless, as well as the good there is the bad; nightmares. For every action there is a reaction; there must be a dragon to be slayed, a bad person for the good one to win.

However, I digress.

If we could, as much as possible, zoom into the young girls mind, we can see candy coloured sunsets, with large normal coloured trees, green grass and wide open spaces.

One by one her imaginary friends appear, each holding their own shape an imagination. It needs only but a name for the image and personality to appear, stronger than any other child does.

This is what first attracts Jareth to your heroine. Her imagination is strong.

For along as the child is loved she has been alone, by choice. As soon as her schooling began we have been discouraged from having 'imaginary' friends, being told that Santa Clause is not real and so on, but this one girl, this one child would not, could not, give up on something that to her was an important as breathing.

As each dream begins, they are grainy, the mind preparing itself for a deep sleep and wonderful thoughts entering her mind.

Numbers fly by as she remembers her schoolwork - they learned the two times table! And new words appear in the air, floating in miss matched shapes, 'bed' 'aeroplane' and so one, until the sky is filled with new knowledge.

Most do not remember this, they simply remember the words being repeated until they are committed to memory, but this individual was just that, individual.

However, as she grows older, she knows that things that make her parents worry and fret, money and time, will affect her, so she will hold onto her childhood for as long as she can!

* * *

Suddenly the girl, much older now - the age of sixteen - snorts, lifting her head from the desk, blinks in the bright light. The clock besides her shows it is late, very late.

'2.48? Man I'm done for!' Thinks she as she shakes her head of long, shoulder blade length brown hair, rubbing at her eyes. As she stands from the desk and arches her back, her average figure and pale skin housing the bones as they groan in protest of such movement.

With a little stealth and baited breath she changes clothes before turning off the light, then climbs into her single bed and sighs before resting her head on the pillow, thoughts of school work, chores, looking for a job and other such 'adult' worries being dismissed as she concentrates on hugging one of her many teddies to her chest, smiling to herself.

PAGE BREAK

Inside the mind, we see the girl flying high over the skies, before she drops below.

"Hi everyone!" She greets, her blue green eyes shinning in happiness. "What's up?"

Her band of mismatched friends looks around sadly. 'No.'

"We're sorry Kelly." Some of them pipe up as she, Kelly, begins to shake her head, mumbling 'nonononono' repeatedly, trying to deny them. "But its time to, time to go."

"No!" Kelly cries her voice childlike. "I don't want to! I still have a few years to go!"

'No, no you don't.' A figure thinks in the depths of his castle as he watches with a small frown the proceedings of her dream-come-nightmare.

For long as there have been dreams there has been a watcher, either the person or this man, Jareth. With the help of his power over thought manipulation, the ability to see through time both forward, back, sideways and upside down as well as his other powers, he could either help slow down or speed up the progression into adult hood.

With his power of time travel, he watches with even more weary eyes as the girl falls to her knees, her world become dark and un welcoming, her friends beginning to fade with each cry of her soul.

For tomorrow, she will wake up and her world will change. There is nothing that could be done. The light that she held, the imagination she held will go out, never to return.

For tomorrow, she will grow up.


	2. The How

_Thank you to the two people who have reviewed, it is two more that I had hoped for, or even concieved possible._

_There will only be another few chapters, possibly two or three, and if you do read this, please tell me what you think._

_This is a new style of writing, as I am trying to explain more in prose format, less than with "speach". Also I hate the word 'normal'._

* * *

The next morning is a horror for Kelly. 

Waking her legs are stiff with cramp, her muscles seized during the night, as they were cold, her mechanical mind supplies as she battled with herself.

'Nono! There just sore from running in my dreams!' She cried to herself, and suddenly a look of insecurity flashes through her as she sits up, sending the dozen or so teddy bears to the floor, panting in exertion. 'That's the first nightmare I've had in years.'

After shaking off the pain and walking towards the bathroom, she has a quick shower before thinking about what she was doing that day - anything to keep her mind from her dead imaginary friends.

* * *

Imaginary friends do not die, however, until we do. Even then they make an impression on ourselves, which is then made on our family and friends, and continues in a cycle where there is something, some shred of the past that remains.

Over the next four years, Kelly changes from an immature bratty child into a fully matured woman with childlike tendencies, which is a much slower rate than any 'normal' human mind.

Going through many events, such as world struggles and personal problems, has made her process of 'put off growing up' speed up at frightening levels, until not ever her parents recognised the girl in front of them.

* * *

Unconsciously as we grow older, we try to shed our child like qualities, such as loosing weight, putting more importance to physical relationships, becoming successful and known for more mature reasons, learning a vast majority of skills.

One thing that is usually on someone's list if one of the most important - physically.

As a child, we dream to have long hair, so we can be like Rapunzel, drape our hair down and aid the prince to rescue us. Have it so shiny that the sun reflects on it, allowing the saviour time to slay the distracted beast, as well as knowing it is more pretty and higher in worth than dull hair.

So as our heroine tries to cross the barrier between childhood and adulthood there is one thing no one will allow her to do - cut her mid back length hair.

"Buts it's so childish!" Kelly would cry to her hairdresser. "I want a short bob look, something that will frame my face."

Elaine, a tall woman of forty-seven years old with blonde hair in a bob, shook her head. "You hair is too thick to look nice in a bob Kelly. And I'm not cutting your hair that short! Yer mam will kill me!"

"But it's not my moms' hair, its mine." Kelly demanded. "If you don't I'll just go somewhere else!"

"No you won't!" Elaine crossed her arms. "No one will touch your hair. No self respecting hairdresser or even student will cut those gorgeous locks. Just give up Kelly, I'll cut off the split ends, even dye it polka dots, but I'm not cutting it!"

This argument had been going on for years. It is true, long hair can make one look childlike, but it is also an example of innocence - something Kelly had no lost, which left some hope for the Underground.

* * *

And now, some time for the plot.

Such as, I have said, as long as we are innocent, we dream, and as long as we dream there is power in those make up the dreams.

Ogres, good, evil, fairies, dragons, mermaids, pirates, flying boys, princesses, witches, beings with imaginable and un imaginable power and so much more are created and shared, even if they are not told.

But like any structure of beings, there must be one, a ruler, who controls order and instils the rules.

The ruler of the dreams is Jareth, who is also the king of the Goblins.

With the aid of his magical powers, a few crystal balls and well-placed minions; Jareth can inset himself into anyone's dreams, be it when they are asleep at night, or daydreaming.

For the necessity of this piece of writing, Jareth is immortalised at the part of us that wills to be a child in an adult world, more so than Peter Pan, who only wishes to never grow up, Jareth aims (and often succeeds) to max the two, making both necessary and important for the mind, body and spirit.

He is often depicted as having long light blonde hair that sticks every which way, piercing blue eyes - with one a shade darker than the other - and outlandish clothing, often including capes, billowy poets shirts, ridding shorts and knee length boots, with extravagant make up on his face and glitter galore.

In order for Jareth to keep control and give some 'normalcy' to our dreams and then our lives, we must empower him, believing in our dreams coming true, our prayers being answered, a light at the end of the tunnel if you will.

Nevertheless, our power and light fade, through either death, disbelief at an early age and even abandoning our 'childish' thoughts as we grow up too fast.

With each light dieing faster and faster, and his power weakening, nightmares take over, which strip us even more of faith.

Which of course, as a king, he cannot have happen!

So, when the girl that vowed to herself and others to remain a child until she had no choice suddenly became an adult, he knew he had to do something, but what?

* * *

So far, we know that once upon a time, we believed in a happy ever after; where clouds were really cotton candy that would never give us toothache, that rainbows really held a message from God and a pot o' gold at the end.

However, as time progresses we lose the innocence that is bestowed with our ignorance. As we watch, each news report of the horrific crimes created, committed and thrust upon the world we are stripped slowly and antagonistically of the view that the world contains good.

Then the physical constraints are placed upon us; what we can eat, what we can't, who we can play with, those we can't, places to go, or not, what clothes to wear, which way to live, how to act and react in certain situations, how our hair should be styled - all constraints of an ideal form that is pushed on us, either from our parents, teachers, friends, boss, colleagues, people in the street, companies, world leaders, siblings, other relations and so on.

Nevertheless, every once in a while someone brakes free.

And for that someone, her story shall be told.


	3. The Who

_Okay, so I lied, there will be another two more chapters, but no more than three. Hopefully this explains some more stuff._

_Thank you all who are reviewing, I really do apreciate it! Especially from those who are PMing me instead of putting in a review of what I need to fix, tenses etc, and also thank you musik-luvr for swapping fandoms and reading my writting over here, hehe._

* * *

After waking from a dreamless sleep, where she knew she had not gotten enough sleep to fall into a deep state - something she was grateful, Kelly rose from her bed and began her morning rituals. 

Once she was done in the bathroom, she took in her appearance on the clear of clutter mirror sitting on her computer desk.

Her long brown hair sat limply on her head, falling past her shoulders and spilling around her back. At five foot five she was of average height, a little overweight but nothing she wasn't comfortable with. Her usual out fit of a pair of black cotton trousers that faired at the bottom to cover her black boots and black socks, coupled with a top of solid colour usually red, black or white, with to the wrist sleeves and an oval neck cut was all she wore.

Jewellery was lost on her - she lost it all the time. Makeup was a waste of time - with her schedule when did she have time to sit down and apply layers of make up? Sure if she went out her friend - who was a beautician - would spend fifteen minutes plucking any extra hairs from her brow before apply the make up in a basic and simple way.

Nevertheless, as Kelly noted the darker than normal circles under her eyes she sighed before reaching for a long, thin silver tube of concealer. After twisting the bottom and applying the peach colour to her purple eyes she gently rubbed them in, nodding to her reflection as the circles were covered up she straighten up before grabbing a brush and pulling her hair into a respectable high pony.

Slipping her too large black fleece over her arms and grabbing her laptop backpack, checking both it and the charger, along with her purse, bus ticket and spare cash were in place, she turned off her back up alarm and set down the stairs, grabbed a tomato from the kitchen then unlocked, and locked, the front door, ready for another full day of college.

* * *

Now imagine doing this, not just for a day, week or year, but nearing on five years straight. Well change the college with school and it's the same. Now throw in overachieving siblings, protective parents, cousins who want to involve you in everything, elders of the local church wanting you to help with everything, a highly demanding job and during the hardest course available - where would you find the time to actually breathe, never mind dream.

* * *

"Master." a small man with an obscenely large head begged as he walked closer to the shrouded figure on a throne. Other creatures like him littered around the room and the bones of ones lay in a pit, mostly decomposed, the smell reaching their noses, letting them know what will happen to them - eventually. "I-I'm sorry, the girl has slipped through."

With a huge sigh the figure swung his legs from their laying position on the throne to rest on the floor, showing his outfit of black riding boots, tight grey trousers, a glittery white poet's shirt and a gold vest. With a wave of his hand he dismissed the creatures and placed his fair cheek in his black gloved hand, looking dejected.

"Why does she not dream?" Jareth wondered aloud, running his fingers through his amazing blonde hair. Sitting back on the thrown her frowned, staring into space, unsure of what to do. Unconsciously he conjured a clear crystal ball and began letting his mind shift through to the future, to see what lay ahead for both the future of himself and his subjects.

As always images passed of the Goblins and Ogres drinking, singing and generally mucking around, with Jareth sitting on his high throne laughing, enjoying the sheer power.

However, after this flashed a black and bleak image of a weakened to the point of death kingdom. The labyrinth walls were crumbling, the bog of Eternal Stench was pouring along the streets of his kingdom and bodies lay scattered on the ground.

Shaking his head Jareth threw the crystal to the wall, unsure of what to do.

"What to do, what to do…I need power. That much is obvious. But with those above ground killing each other off, making their offspring grow up faster and even trying to analyse their dreams." He scoffed, slouching again. "There innocence has been taken away, the labyrinth cant last much longer."

Standing with assurance Jareth walked towards his crystal room where vast rows or crystals - mainly dark - lines the walls, before looking over them for ones that were grey, not many were. A few were a slight white while the rest were black.

"I need power." He spoke aloud, commanding the balls into action. "I need someone that I can manipulate into regression, dream once more, even for just the once, but to give me enough power to rule the land for generations. GO!"

With that command the balls began sorting themselves out, the black empty ones (most of which resembled adults) flying away and the smaller white ones (which were for the children) came closer to him.

The crystals then arranged themselves in a flat pyramid, with the largest ones at the top. Jareth looked over them all, before dismissing them - most if not all were of children's energy's, something that he would need in the long run. But for _now_.

Jareth paused as he walked past a medium sized light gray one that flickered between one darker shade and one lighter one. He cocked his head as images swam to him mind.

"Ahh, young Kelly. My, my, what imagination. But how to access it? How?" He asked himself before grabbing the crystal with one hand, and dismissing the rest who flew into their original positions. Jareth was going to plan if this energy was to become his.

* * *

Once Kelly catches her first bus to college, sits on it for thirty minutes, catches her second one and arrives in time to grab a quick sandwich in the morning she is usually running off her feet to get to class early and sets up her computer for a fun filled with education three hours.

On this particular morning, for this is where out story really begins; it was a dull and grey Tuesday. After missing the bus Kelly had to walk ten minutes to the bus station and get another bus, then after waiting for ten minutes in the rain, ended up early for class.

Now her first class on a Tuesday is History, followed by an hour of lunch then a further three hours of Geography in the afternoon. Couple this with the bad and frigged weather, lack of sleeps and course work that is way over her head - you get one sleepy girl.

During class, in his white owl form, Jareth flew to look into Kelly's classroom and grinned to himself as she started to doze off.

Kelly's eyes drop once again and her head almost falls from her hand onto the desk. She is saved as one of her friends pokes her in the leg with a pen.

Hard.

Muttering an 'ow' she notices everyone else is packing up and follows suit.

* * *

After yawning loudly several times, and apologising at the break, Kelly's teacher gave her some sympathy and a copy of her lecture notes before sending her off home, with one of her friends given permission to take her home.

As Kelly unlocked the front door with a final "get some sleep!" from her friend and locked it again she briefly hoped she wouldn't dream ad she fell face first onto her pillow, knocking some teddies off her bed and falling asleep instantly.

And to Jareth's excitement…

A deep, dream filled sleep.


	4. The Huh

The parts that seem more technical will be included in my finished essay that I am going to submit to my course lecturer on dreams and their meanings. I don't think I will be adding the more technical explanations of Freud within this essay so don't worry - I'm not completely daft!

A question for Musik-luvr: Do you think Ronon would forgive Carson for dieing like his wife - in a flame of fire?

Also: a little quote I just thought of:

Why am I the one who is different?  
Why am I the one who is wrong?  
Can no one else be not perfect?  
Can no one else fall from the wagon?

* * *

When we let our minds wander many things can happen. 

We could be embarrassed by our unwanted thoughts, humoured by our own quick wit, amused by the antics of out inner self and so on.

When we begin to act out what we have let our minds wander to - be it by writing down what we have seen, sing about it, act the thought out or even draw it - we know we face persecution and judgment, which is another reason why the imagination and innocence is being lost.

Fear.

Fear of persecution, torment, rejection, laughter, cruelty, our fears being realised and of loosing the respect and love of those who we care for, as well as the implications that they may have on our lives.

An example of this is, from Kelly, is when we give into temptation to create.

One day in the kitchen, after the cook had made some icing for a cake and had half a bowl left, Kelly decided to make some iced cookies. While the cook and other catering assistants were out she opened a pack of plain digestive biscuits and placed the icing on one half of them and sprinkled sprinkles on them.

However, as everyone arrived she tried to hide her creations but they were found - and to this day, she is still persecuted and laughed at for being so childish for making cakes when everyone else was having a break.

If that wasn't a reason for growing up, I don't know what would be.

* * *

With a start, Kelly sat up, frowning as she noticed she was on a bed of grass. Standing slowly she looked down and was relieved to see that she still had on her black trousers and red top, but wondered where her shoes had gotten too.

Looking around herself she noted the light green grass and tall gloomy trees in the distance, a few hills scattered around the area where the sun was setting, casting a light pink glow in the area: 'Means it will be nice tomorrow.'

'No, no, no!' Jareth thought as we watched from high above. 'She isn't supposed to be analysing this!'

Kelly ignored her feeling of being watched to walk along a patch of grass that was dented. 'There must be someone near by…' "Hello? Is anyone here?"

Jareth sighed and disappeared then reappeared with a pop. "Hello."

"Gah!" Kelly screeched and jumped back, arms up to protect herself. "What the hell are--Sorry, hi?"

His eyebrow rose after her exclamation. "No, what were you going to say?"

Kelly stared at the man with THE _oddest_ outfit in the world of outfits - a long glittery cape type top with a ruffled white shirt, silver belt and black boots on top of black trousers. He didn't look half-bad with the matching dark highlights in his hair but he just - looked - well, odd.

He kept his brow raised and added a smirk. "Well?"

"It wasn't polite." Kelly replied and apologised before trying to move on. "If you'll excuse me--"

"Oh, you won't get far." Jareth explained and fell in step with her.

Kelly chose to ignore him and kept walking forward, and then growled when she noticed she hadn't gotten any further. "Okay, what the HELL is going on here?"

"Isn't it simple? You're dreaming." Jareth threw his hands and arms wide, extending her vision to the wide and perfect glen around him.

"No." She stopped walking. "I don't dream."

"Oh?" Jareth once again lifted his eyebrow. "Would you rather have a nightmare?" Suddenly the skies darkened and Kelly let out a small wine of fear as thunder was heard in the distance. "I shall remind you, my dear, that this is what you make it. Use your imagination."

Her teeth began to chatter as rain began pouring, soaking her outfit and chilling her to the bone.

"Now I know that this is stupid question, but one I must ask." Jareth paused, waving his hands and producing an umbrella from nowhere. "Now, why did you stop dreaming? Why do you put it off, make yourself ill with lack of sleep and keep your imagination locked inside?"

"It-it's childish." Kelly chattered. "I had to-had to grow up, can't be a kid all my life. No reason, ju-just learned that it was time to leave my poetry an-and writing, imaginary friends and so on behind me, to get on with my life and live in-live in a world that was tangible."

She paused to catch a breath and hissed as the rain became - if possible - colder. "I began working for actual happiness, not any of this only there when I seek it out by myself in things that are not there!"

By now it had began snowing, and she motioned for the 'brolly. "Can I--"

"Not until you see what you are doing." He snapped, before adding silently. 'To yourself and my kingdom.'

"Look say what you've got to preach, I've got a real world to wake up in, and I will wake up - the window I've left open will wake me soon enough."

"Don't you get it! Stop over analysing, you killing me here!" Jareth snapped then paused, closing his eyes. As he opened them again he gestured for her to take him hand. "Come, I will show you what you are doing."

"I ain't taking your hand." She retaliated and turned to walk away - only to walk into his arms. "Hey! Lemme go!"

The strange man ignored her requests, demands and pleas as he put them both into a crystal bubble and began transporting them from her realm of dreams to his world; his decaying castle and the unprotected realms surrounding it.

As they walked past the broken walls of the labyrinth, the scattered bones of long passed life bodies that were once full of life creatures they found them selves in what used to be a blooming garden area. Now all that remained was the shrivelled outlines of rotten trees, decomposed flowers and disintegrating artwork.

"Are-are you suggesting, that I, that I'm causing all this?" She asked, disbelief crowing her features. "No. No way!"

"Yes. Yes way." Jareth mimicked. "When you stopped dreaming, when you stopped believing in things to come true, stopped making wishes and gave up on your friends you stripped them of their hope, of their light, just so you could show to those that do not matter that you were growing up."

"But I am!" She stomped her foot. "I have a chosen career, I stopped collection those st-stupid teddies, gave up all my free time to help other - I AM COMPLETELY MATURE!"

"But how can you be completely, or even just complete, as a human being when part of you is locked up, hiding from the world?"

"I'm not hiding!"

"Stop winning like a child!"

"Stop being a pain in the ass, you're confusing me!"

"What is so confusing?" He asked and sat down on a decaying stone chair. "Do you wish me to begin at the beginning?"

"Yes. That might help." She answered and leaned against a strong looking part of the wall.

"You imagination, as well as everyone who makes a whish, has a dream or nightmare or believes, hopes or has faith in something, powers my world." Jareth put plainly. "Every time someone stops believing in something, a faerie dies. When they stop wishing, an ogre falls. As their dreams fade so do my powers of helping their nightmares."

"Helping?"

"Every time you face a nightmare I am there, reminding you that _you_ have control, because if you die in your dream you die in the real world."

"No, that is caused by the subconscious giving signals to the brain to give up as well as SADs."

"No it isn't!" He thundered and sat up. "Sudden Arrhythmia Death syndrome has nothing to do with this! When someone has a dream that turns bad, so bad that they cannot keep it from changing into a nightmare there energy is sucked out. But more and more people are having nightmares - reducing my power - and it takes more of what I have to teleport to their minds and wake them up before I loose them completely."

Kelly felt a headache forming as she rubbed her forehead. "I still don't understand - what's this about imagination then?"

"If you believe that something else is giving you the dreams - be it your daily stresses, worries, events in your life - then you are rationalising. Something that only grown ups do--"

"See!" She pointed a finger at him; cutting him off. "I TOLD you I was a grown up!"

"But it is not your time!" He stressed and stood up to walk over to her. "There is a time for everyone to grow up, and there are few that are meant to not grow up at all, as well as a few that are supposed to grow up early."

"So what - I grew up too early? What's the harm in that?" She scoffed and uncrossed her arms.

'Hmm, she's a tough one.' "Within my powers I am able to see the future. But since that night five years ago there has been a cloud over that of my kingdoms fate. You are the only one who has changed."

Kelly shook her head. "Don't prove nothing."

"Your cutting you life short by not living it to the fullest!"

Suddenly Jareth felt her beginning to loose the sharpness of her dream, blurriness creeping into the edges of the labyrinth. And then something stuck him. It was worth a try - there were only so many chances he would have to speak with her directly.

"I dare you; I dare you to not be rational for one day." He paused. "Be childish once more and then meet with me once more and I will show you what your dreams and imagination can cause. Do anything, write, sing, draw, pen some poetry, act out scenes, ANYTHING, just try. For the sake of my kingdom. For my sake."

Kelly yawned and stretched. "I take it by this last ditched attempt at getting my chicken goat up your running out of time and ideas?"

She sighed and nodded. "Okay, for one day _only_ I'll act like I used to, write something's, sing on my way home, go to the park and have enough time to dream."

As the dream began fading, she muttered something about 'being labelled a loony' for her actions tomorrow before fading away.

Leaving a completely restored wall behind her, where she had been standing.


	5. The Beginning

_Sorry for not updating yesterday, I just got some bad news and had to be slightly sedated - out for 17 hours lol, made up for it today, wrote some stuff for my new Staragte Atlantis sequel. Anyway, thank you (again) to all who reviewed! You guys are lighting up my (all ready getting) darker days. Also do not own Sailor Moon._

* * *

Some times, we call it an epiphany.

Some times, we call it a wake up call.

Some times, we call the psychiatrist into help.

For Kelly, six years ago she would have chalked it up to her friends playing with her. Five years ago, she would blame her parents. Four years ago, she would understand that it was a personal revelation in her mind that is focusing on one particular point in her life and event.

But for now she sat on her bed, head in her hands, wondering what the hell she was up to.

As she glanced at the clock on her bedside she groaned and flopped back, it was only two AM.

Sometimes, just sometimes, we take it as it is, with no question; comment or query, letting what has happen. This is often how people can deal with things, letting it pass, hoping it was just a trick of the light, and that what they thought that rationalised was (greatly) misinterpreted.

* * *

When her first alarm went off Kelly sat up on the bed and went to get ready, when the crystal caught her eye. Glancing in it she caught site of Jareth sleeping lazily, arms crossed across his chest as he lay across his throne, the goblins scattered around him sleeping - or dead.

"Damn it wasn't a dream." she muttered. "Or nightmare."

The Jareth within the crystal snorted as though he heard her.

A quick glance at her calendar showed her to-dos, as well that the day was a Friday, the only day she had a half day in college.

Thoughts passed her mind, thinking of what she was going to do.

"Better to be crazy for a day, than nuts for a lifetime." she muttered before grabbing a piece of paper, a pen, the calendar and her black LG mobile from its charging stand.

'Let's see.' She mused, and wrote two headings on the paper Supposed to Do Today and Who to Call.

'Supposed to do today.  
College - 9.30 till 12.30.  
Church Volunteering - 1.30 till 6.30.  
Wedding planning with and dinner with Susan - 7.00 till 8.30.  
Clean - 8.45 till 9.45.  
Meditation - 9.45 till 10.00.  
Homework - 10.00 till 11.15.  
Personal time - 11.30 till 12.

Who to Call.  
Amanda - College.  
Maurine - Church.  
Susan - Wedding.'

"Right." She muttered, then looked around her room before sighing, thinking 'I'm bleedin mental' before calling her college and telling her lecturers answering machine that she wouldn't be in, then calling Maurine to tell her she couldn't make it today, and then finally told Susan that she something had came up.

With a sigh, she plopped back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. "God, someone save me from this bordem!"

What the bleedin hell was she going to do?

* * *

After having a nice, long and relaxing bath Kelly blow dried her hair and picked out a perfect 'relaxing outfit', then glanced at the clock.

Only forty-five minutes?!

Glaring at the piece of technology she settled for clearing something's from the floor when there was a ring on the doorbell.

Knowing she was the only one awake she placed the things on her bed before dashing downstairs, taking care to remove the dog guard from the bottom before twisting the key that sat just out of the lock and opened it, then slammed it shut, mind going into overdrive.

'Okay, I've lost it! That David Bowie reject is _not_ in real life! Unless, it…is him?'

Shaking her head, she opened the door and poked her head out. 'Hmm…no one there?'

With another shake of her head, she shut and locked the door, opened and closed the gate, before entering her room with her eyes closed, and opening them as she closed the door. Turning around she stifled a scream when the man from her dream and two minutes ago was sitting on her bed, with one leg on the bed and one off.

"Who the- what the- eh?" Kelly gibbered, reaching for her chair and sitting down with a small 'thunk'. "Where the _hell_ did you come from?"

"My, my, I did not know you were so…oblivious." He smirked, his eyes were twinkling. "When my mother and father decided to celebrate their love one night--"

"Ha, ha mister comedian!" She scowled the world out at him. "Where? Did someone put you up to this? Is that my acquaintances trying to get a joke in?"

"Acquaintances my dear? Can you not call then friends?" Jareth asked, sitting up on her bench slash bed and patting down the covers. "Come, come young Kelly, we have much to discuss."

"Oh, sure we do." She stood up and as discreetly as she could began reaching for her mobile. "Where did you come from? Leverndale? Darnley BUPA?"

With a wave of his gloved hand, the phone disappeared, and Kelly found herself holding a small crystal in its place.

"HEY!"

She glanced at him sharply and with another wave of his hand the crystal exploded out words, covering her in a burst of glittery, her eyelids slamming shut to stop them irritating her eyes.

Remembering not to rub her eyes - that would make them sting - she blinked them repeatedly, letting her vision clear over a few bouts of darkness.

Looking around her at the sand dunes from before she shivered involuntary. "I didn't wish anything--"

"Oh no?" Jareth, finally, spoke, appearing behind her with a high black collar, which was connected to a sparkly black half-open shirt, dark blue jeans and knee length boots. His arms - covered with to-the-elbow-gloves - crossed over his chest as he gestured his head to the side. "Now I clearly remember you saying, and wishing that--"

"Someone save me from my boredom. I didn't mention imaginary fictional characters, or my coma-d imagination." Kelly snapped, going into her defensive stance of putting most of her weight behind her, on her back leg, while crossing her arms over her chest and glared as her hair fell in front of her face. "Now what do I have to do to get out of here?"

"My dear--" "STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

At her burst of courage - or annoyance -, Jareth uncrossed his arms and stood stiffly. A medium sized gaudy clock appeared, looking much like a normal grandmother clock that hung on walls, but with thirteen numbers instead of the usual twelve.

"You surely must have noticed that your teachers have commented on your essays being bland." He spoke calmly, as though the wind was not whipping around his head. "Dry, weak, weedy, unimaginative."

"That's simply because the material I've been sourcing isn't very - imaginative." She cursed back as him, and then ran a hand through her long hair. "What do you want?"

"For you to dream. And since you wont be doing that I am going to give you two choices." he waved his hand and a crystal appeared. "If you complete my labyrinth within the set thirteen hours, I will stop pestering you for your powerful and life giving imagination."

"If I don't?"

"Then this crystal will simply keep you in a coma like state that will zap the nightmare induced dreaming energy from you." he shrugged nonchalance.

"Then why give me the choice if all you want is my dreaming energy?" She snapped.

"To give you a chance. A choice if it were." Jareth began fading away, his voice remaining strong against her cold ears. "Like the Doom Tree saga from Sailor Moon. If your dreams are willing then they create much more harmless and helpful energy, but if they are forced they will become nightmares, thus the energy will not as powerful but still able to give my kingdom strength."

"Wait! What if I cut you a deal?" She gasped, moving to walk towards his see through state.

"Oh no, it's too late for that my dear." He laughed evilly. "I'm playing for keeps now!"

* * *

When we write essays at college and university there are usually comments from our lecturers - too little grasp of English, need to condense the writing, too complex, need to use a thesauruses, try looking at it with a different point of view and so on.

But during our high school years when we are _encouraged_ to write poetry and imaginative poetry, we are criticised for writing too seriously - why must everything be rational, things that are simply may just be, not everything can be explained, if you go down this path your writings may become dry, too complex for your intended reader etcetera.

However, being able to write in this way is often what helps distinguish between fact and fiction, quite in literal fact.

When dealing with right and wrong, cases of good and evil, what is just and unjust within society, we need detailed accounts that take in only things that are necessary.

When dealing with why these things occurred only then can imagination used, but this is often discouraged for being too fantasist, but really, out of the world population who reaches more people:

J.K.Rowling or Lecturer Craig Ross?


End file.
